Interlude by Mizar short story
by Mizar
Summary: What happened during after after Spike's abortive attempt to shoot Buffy.


Interlude: By Mizar

Takes place after Spike was coldly reminded of his would-be girlfriend's response to his proposal in the 1800's, before he was a vampire. Buffy had made him feel just as angry and hurt. She'd replied to his advances that he was beneath her and she'd never associate that way with him. They'd been tousling all night when she'd asked how he killed two slayers. Spike was out to finish this battle once and for all, chip be damned.

He walked toward Buffy, he was seething with anger, gritting his teeth as he stopped about 10ft from her, and cocked the double-barrelled shotgun. He was intent on finishing off this slayer, the one who had caused him so much trouble in the past. The thorn in his side...and the one he loved.

Buffy was sitting on the back steps of her house, her head down between her forearms, her hands clasped tightly over her head, crying softly. The sudden threat of the possibility of her mother being seriously ill, of losing her, of being alone, terrified her.

As Spike cocked the shotgun, Buffy looked up, tears coursing down her face. She seemed to snap out of her current thought and focused on him, which in a way was a mild relief.

She saw Spike, she glanced at the gun, then shifted to his face. She quickly thought back to earlier in the night, when Spike had basically said the moment her guard was down, he'd slip in and kill her and give her the death he thought she might welcome.

"What do you want now?" She asked him, no threat in her voice, but it trembled because of the state she was in. She almost seemed to signal with her eyes, "please leave me alone, why do you have to add to my pain?" Of course, Spike had no way of knowing about her mother.

When he saw her raise her face from her bowed head position, then saw the tears, her eyes, his animosity and rage instantly melted away. Her evident sorrow gave him a start.

"What's wrong?" He asked, with genuine concern in his voice.

She turned her head away slightly, "I don't want to talk about it." Her initial look of alarm softening.

Spike: "Is there something I can do?"

Still looking away, her brow pursed for a moment. She thought, "Why is he offering his help? _Could_ he help me some how?" Her mind went back to her mother.

He sat down next to her, putting the shotgun aside and turned to look at her. She hadn't mentioned the gun. He hesitatingly reached over and carefully patted the back of her left shoulder. He could feel the warmth of her skin beneath the sweater, he also felt her tremble.

She felt him touch her shoulder, inexplicably trying to comfort her. Why? Her expression changed, but she couldn't dwell on it, her mind went back to her mother, she felt terribly vulnerable, her mind was racing a mile a minute thinking, as was her nature, of the worst consequences.

They sat side by side, both looking forward. Then Spike looked at her again. She was trembling. He steeled his courage and got to his feet, removing his full-length leather jacket. "Here" he said, and gently draped it around her shoulders. He sat down beside her again.

She was perplexed by this gesture, but she was in too fragile a state to contemplate why he'd done it. She looked at him with a small partial smile." He did the same back. She pulled the collar of the coat tighter and she smelled the coat's smell, the smell of a man. Instantly, she was taken back to when her father would give her his coat when she went ice-skating, to warm her because the ice-skating uniforms weren't that warm. Her chin trembled and she started crying again, more strongly this time and buried her face in Spike's shoulder.

Somewhat shocked, Spike hesitated before putting his arms around her, trying to sooth her, rubbing her upper back. "It's alright" her said. He was anxious to know what had put her in this state. He felt her tears wicking through the material of his black t-shirt, hot against his air temperature skin.

She was racked with sobs initially, but after about 2 minutes, they slowed and she lifted her head up and looked at him. "Why was he being so considerate?" she thought, but she was grateful for the comfort. She often felt very alone and she felt especially so now.

He fought a fantastic urge to kiss her. Spike was in a quandary, he was so in love with her he couldn't think of much else, but he was also still at the mercy of the demon inside him. He had no soul, so this was now a constant struggle to reconcile the unreconcilable, his feelings for her and his need to do evil. The chip acted as the tamper keeping him in-check. But all he knew was that in this moment, he wanted to comfort her as best he could.

She straightened up, but kept his coat around her. "You look good in it." He offered. She smile a bit. "I'm sorry, I just didn't expect..."

She didn't know what to expect, she was sad, terrified, confused, depressed.

He looked at her and didn't say anything. She knew he wanted to know what had upset her so much (I was crying on my mortal enemy's shoulder for God's sake!) so she told him as an almost a "quid pro qua" for his kindness.

"My mother...might be sick, we're going to the hospital with her tomorrow morning for some tests. I'm sure it's nothing, she's fine, but..."

He understood Buffy's attitude, but he also understood her thought processes, she was never one to look at the positive side of things, if only due to bitter experience.

"Buffy, (she didn't flinch when he said her name) I'm sure it's nothing either, but even if it is, you'll do what you always do, fight it and win. I should know." He said in partial jest.

She smiled and laughed a bit. He smiled back. She got to her feet, he did too. She turned her back to him and he removed the coat. He realized she was better, a little anyway and it was time for him to go. He didn't say anything but indicated goodbye with his eyes and turned to go. "Spike..."

He turned around and she said, "thank you." She was still wondering about his sudden bout of friendliness and civility, and in-fact she kind of wanted him to stay.

"Your welcome slayer."

Then she said, "Don't forget your gun." He knew then she understood he might have intended to use it on her. He wasn't out hunting rabbits. He picked up the gun, feeling no shame, because he was still mostly evil and she just accepted it as another episode in their ongoing battle.

A silent, "I know you could have but didn't, thank you." Passed from her to him. She realized she'd been rough on him tonight, overreacted because of his actions.

"Try not to worry, Buffy."

She wistfully said, "I'll try not to."

He turned and walked away. She watched him go and then went into her house.

-END.


End file.
